turning his eyes upon the
hand which rested on the jeweled sword hilt. "Fear not that in a
street of London I would draw sword against thee, traitor though thou
art. Thy royal master----"

"Traitor!" cried Effingston, the red of his cheeks changing to the
paleness of anger. "Traitor, sayest thou, Sir Winter?"

"Aye!" replied Winter. "All London knoweth."

The Viscount controlled himself by an effort.

"Thy purpose is clear to me," said he coldly, "thou wouldst force a
quarrel; so be it. Traitor, sayest thou? Perchance, thy mirror hath
shown one to thee so frequently that the word is ever on thy tongue."

"As to mirrors," replied Winter, "those in the King's chamber have
revealed to thee their ways, then. Thinkest thou nothing is known
concerning the purpose of my Lord Monteagle in instructing thee as to
Puritanism."

Effingston bit his lip. "'Tis befitting thy manhood, Sir Winter, having
bribed a dastardly servant to give false testimony of what was
listened to from behind a curtain, that thou shouldst insult one whose
cloak buckle thou art unworthy to loosen. 'Twas a fair representation
of thy character, a good showing of thy principles. If it be in thy
mind to prate further, get thee into the market place, where, mounted
upon an ass, thou mayst draw around thee certain of the populace whose
wont it is to gather for such discourse."

This was spoken with a mock gallantry which the Viscount could well
assume, and deprived the other for a moment of utterance. Overcome by
anger, and surprised that the insults heaped upon the Viscount were
met with contempt, he forgot himself so far as to bring the name of
Mistress Fawkes into the quarrel.

"Thou dost but jest with me," he cried, taking a step nearer his
rival; "perchance, having come from the arms of thy mistress, thy wits
are so dulled that----"

The reply of Effingston was sudden and unexpected. Resolved to avoid
an open quarrel with one whom he considered beneath him, he had sought
to return words, only, to the other's insults, but the reference to
one whom he had held most dear, fired his brain. Scarce had Winter
uttered the base accusation when the young nobleman snatched off his
heavy gauntlet and with it struck him across the face; so great was
the force of the blow that the other staggered, lost his footing on
the slippery street, and fell at the feet of his enemy.

Having thus given expression to his anger, Effingston calmly replaced
the glove, and w